


Winter Blunderland

by orphan_account



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, college rhink, homage to O. Henry, warm Christmas feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-18 10:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13098648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rhett always gives great presents. This Christmas, Link is determined to outdo him. Too bad great minds think alike.Written for Mythical Secret Santa 2017 and the lovelythe-crepes-of-wrath





	Winter Blunderland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amanderjean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanderjean/gifts).



> Happy Holidays to [the-crepes-of-wrath](https://the-crepes-of-wrath.tumblr.com/), my 2017 Mythical Secret Santa buddy. Stay cozy!

Link Neal slung his lanky frame onto the cramped, grungy sofa in the dorm room he shared with his best friend. He dropped his backpack onto the floor and exhaled a beleaguered sigh. From the desk in the far corner of the room, his best friend asked, “That bad, huh?”

“I tried to get Marissa under the mistletoe in the Commons, Rhett,” he murmured miserably. Rhett huffed with laughter.

“Not good, brother,” he crowed, shifting a thick textbook out of the way as he reached for a blue highlighter. “That what took you so long gettin’ back?”

“No,” Link exhaled, slinging one arm over his eyes. “Stopped in at Sorry State.” 

“Find anything good?” Rhett asked, slashing deep lines through his study guide. “Find that Merle record you been lookin’ for?” Link scoffed.

“I’m beginning to think it doesn’t exist!” He moaned. “I imagined it in a fever dream.” Rhett laughed and flashed thoughtful eyes his friend’s way. “It’s literally the only Merle record I don’t own, and it’s taunting me from the Shadow Realm.”

“You finished your Christmas shopping yet?” Rhett asked with a studiously light curiosity. Link just moaned again. “You’d better hurry. We’re going home in three days.”

“Don’t remind me,” Link answered drily. He got up slowly and inched over to the wall where his box of records and fancy turntable sat. He slipped out an old Loretta Lynn Christmas record and set it to play. He turned to watch Rhett for a moment, for some sign that this was appropriate study session music. Rhett tapped his highlighter against the desk in a calming tattoo. Link slunk back onto the sofa and said, “By the way, mom called and said she’s gonna come up here and give our dorm a deep scrubbing before next semester starts.” Rhett paused his tapping, and Link hesitated before explaining, “Money’s kinda tight this year, and she wanted to do something nice for us for Christmas.”

“Well, that’s real sweet of her,” Rhett said casually, not missing the tinge of pink lighting Link’s cheeks. He grinned playfully. “So, uh, what’d you get me for Christmas, Linkster?”

“You’ll see,” Link answered, sitting up on the sofa, casting a withering look at Rhett. “Gotta be patient.” Rhett gave a belly laugh and slapped his textbook shut.

“Don’t worry, Link,” he said with an air of mischief. “You’ve always sucked at giving gifts, so I ain’t expectin’ much.” He got up from his desk to stretch his long legs. Link’s eyes narrowed, and he reached for something to throw at Rhett’s head. 

“Fuck you, man,” he laughed. “I’m gonna blow your mind with how thoughtful and mythical my gift is.” Rhett shot him a smug, _sure, Jan_ kind of look before he shuffled into their ensuite bathroom. Link’s eyes followed and lingered on the door for a moment. As he reclined on the sofa, he examined their shared living space, so full of mementos and photos and dirty socks and _them together_ , the way they belonged. He eyes skittered across the guitar case shoved beneath Rhett’s bunk. A brilliant, triumphant idea sparked in his brain. “Hey, uh, Rhett?”

“Yeah?” Came Rhett’s singsong voice from the bathroom.

“Mom said we should get rid of any trash or stuff we don’t use,” Link began. Rhett hummed his understanding. “You ever think about selling that guitar under the bed?” Something skidded in the bathroom, and the door yanked open just enough for Rhett to shove his shaved head and chinstrap beard through.

“Are you- What?” He stuttered. “That’s a 1964 Gretsch Country Gentleman. You don’t just sell those things willy-nilly.” His eyes were wide, bewildered and flustered. “I mean, that’s my baby. I can’t believe I have to explain this to you. You know this.” Link smiled indulgently, shaking his head in a way that dissolved Rhett’s disbelief.

“I know, I know,” he replied. “It’s just that it’s been broken since you got it…”

“You know I’m waiting until I can afford the replacement parts,” Rhett warned, slamming the door shut behind him again.

“Oh, yeah,” Link said thoughtfully, a devilish grin beginning to take purchase on his lips. “How on Earth could I forget?”

 

The next day, Link snuggled into a thick, warm cable knit sweater and lined boots. He checked his watch and saw that Rhett’s Calculus final would be starting soon. He’d have a safe window of time. Even though Link knew he had the dorm to himself, he still had a creeping feeling and a fluttering heart as he fell to his knees in front of Rhett’s bunk and slid the guitar case out from under the bed. 

He buckled the case into his passenger seat with an almost comical amount of care. Rhett would tear his heart out through his eye sockets if the guitar got so much as a scratch on it. He didn’t care to think what hell would befall him if it went flying through the windshield.

A little bell tinkled above the door as he entered Savior Guitar. An older man sitting behind the counter gave a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Well, hi there. What can I do ya for?”

Link hurried over to the counter and set the guitar gently down on the glass. He cleared his throat as the man clicked open the latches. “Yeah, I got a, uh… Gretchen…” The man’s eyebrows shot up and his smile deepened as he took a look at the beauty inside.

“Gretsch Country Gentleman,” he said appraisingly. “Mid ‘60s, by the look of it.” He shifted his glasses up his nose and looked up at Link with a kindly grin. “This ain’t yours.” Link felt a little unsettled by the man’s sureness, but the charmingly ridiculous blinking lights on his gaudy Christmas sweater loosened Link up a little.

“Yeah, it’s my, uh, friend’s,” he answered. “Apparently, it’s got some electrical issues. Just wanna see if you can fix it.” The man laughed congenially, and he stroked his short, grey beard.

“Yeah, son,” he said in an avuncular tone. “I can fix it. Why don’t you go wander around a bit while I assess the damage?” Link nodded, completely out of his element and glad not to be answering questions.

Some time had passed when the older man (“John, by the way”) called him over. His lips pursed, he said, “You ain’t gonna like this.” Link took a deep breath. “It’s gonna set ya back about $300. That’s service and parts.” Link’s face drained of all color, and he numbly packed up the guitar again and left the shop.

 

It wasn’t just a good present; it was going to be _the best_ present. It was going to make Rhett shut up about being such a crappy gift-giver once and for all. It was going to make Rhett so indescribably happy, he’d probably throw himself at Link in a big bear hug and not let him go for a long time. Link took a sip of hot cocoa where he sat on the floor, sifting through his records. He watched the marshmallows bob as he worked through his options.

He couldn’t ask his mom for money. She was struggling so hard just to make it through the end of the year, and Lord only knew when he’d be able to pay her back again. He felt a heavy lead weight settle in his belly. They’d be leaving for home in just two days, and he was going to let Rhett down if he didn’t figure something out. How did people usually come up with $300 on such short notice?

He jerked with shock as the doorknob rattled and the door opened, followed by Rhett and Gregg chattering about finals. Gregg nodded at Link. Link nodded at Gregg. Gregg plopped down on the seat and fired up the N64. Link heard Rhett scoff. “Oh, my God. _Link_.” He jerked around and looked up at Rhett, who stood posed with a fist on one hip and a heavy scowl.

“What?” Link asked defensively, not quite sure what he’d done wrong.

“When are you gonna learn to take better care of your things?” He demanded, pointing at the mug of cocoa sitting on the lid of the turntable. Link carefully snatched it, half tempted to remind Rhett that he wasn’t Link’s mother. “That thing was, like, three hundred bucks. You got that kind of cash laying around?”

Link’s eyes went wide, and he fought the urge to smile. 

 

“You better speed it up, slowpoke,” Rhett drawled from his perch on the bunk bed. “I wanna leave while we still got daylight.”

Link ignored him, bent over his suitcase, neatly packing his folded shirts and socks with care. Rhett lounged on his bunk, watching Link’s hands work, having already packed in a rush himself, his dirty laundry sloppily shoved into a big, black trash bag. Mama Di was gonna have her work cut out for her. Link could sense Rhett buzzing with excitement. He’d been grinning and fidgeting all morning. 

“I don’t know what you’re so excited about,” Link said with his back to Rhett as he worked. “You’re the one driving.” Rhett sat up and swung his long legs over the edge of the bunk.

“That ain’t what I’m- ah, fuck it,” he answered, digging through his backpack for a large package. “Here.” He thrust the slim, square parcel at Link, who accepted it, eyes boggling. “I couldn’t wait any longer.” The package was littered with stamps and an address label for the Student Union with _Rhett James McLaughlin_ in big, solid letters.

“What is _this_?” Link asked, looking up at Rhett from where he sat on the floor. 

“Your Christmas present, stupid. Open it!” Rhett demanded, and Link could tell from the warm apples of his cheeks and the crinkles around his gleeful eyes that Rhett had really outdone himself this year. He tore open the large packet, and when he glanced inside, his heart stuttered and crashed into his belly.

“No.”

“Yes,” Rhett said low and victorious. “And it’s an original pressing.”

“How did you-” Link was breathless, fingers numb as he slipped out a crisp, clean copy of Merle Haggard and the Strangers’ _Mama Tried_. “Where did you-”

“There’s this new website called eBay,” Rhett said, missing the way Link’s face fell as he stared at the record. “It’s amazing, you can find literally anything, and with same day shipping…” But Link was clearly swimming in misery. When a single tear slid down his cheek, Rhett finally took notice. “What? What’s wrong?” Link swallowed hard and gestured to the empty space where the turntable used to sit.

“I sold it so I could buy you this,” he said as he started digging through his backpack, overwhelmed with the silly compulsion to apologize for Rhett looking so crestfallen. Link handed over the neatly wrapped box of guitar parts. “Now, I got low-balled by the person who bought the turntable off me, so I couldn’t afford the repair service, but Gregg knows a guy who’s real good with…” Rhett had opened the package, but rather than the burst of excitement Link had been anticipating, his best friend’s face went blank for a long moment. A bubble of worry wiggled its way up through his belly, and he explained, “It’s guitar parts! It’s exactly the ones you need. I took your guitar to Savior, and the owner said so.” 

Rhett looked at Link. He looked at the package in his hands. He looked back at Link. He said solemnly, “No wonder the guy at the shop recognized my guitar when I…” He bit his lip. “When I sold it to him. To buy you that record.” Link’s mouth fell open, and his ears started ringing. The two stared at each other, standing like gawking idiots in the middle of their dorm room.

Rhett cracked first, a warm gush of laughter blooming from his belly. Link broke shortly after, and before long, they were both howling so hard, Rhett slung his arms around Link, and they collapsed on the bed. Link’s chest glowed with the joy of Rhett’s rough embrace, and Rhett seemed unwilling to give him distance any time soon. He wrestled his way on top of Link and let his whole body go slack, pinning down Link’s wriggling little frame.

“I’m dead,” he chuckled, and for a long while he stayed there, pressing Link down into the mattress. At length, their laughter died down until the only sound in the room was their slow and even breaths. With a pounding heart, Link slid his hands around Rhett’s waist, coming to rest on the small of his back. Link just held Rhett there.

“You really sold your guitar for me?” He whispered against Rhett’s neck. He could feel Rhett smile against his ear.

“You really sold your turntable for me?” Rhett asked, his whispering lips brushing golden sparks down Link’s whole left side. 

“Rhett?” Link sighed, and Rhett shifted onto his palms and pressed himself up to look down into Link’s eyes. 

“Link?”

“I love you, bo,” Link whispered, feeling suddenly naked under Rhett’s gaze. He blushed and smiled sweetly.

“I love you, too.” Rhett’s voice was rough, just like his breathing. Link’s entire body exploded in warm, gooey languor when his best friend closed his eyes and slowly lowered his head. Rhett’s cool lips brushed the corner of Link’s mouth, and an ecstatic frisson of cheer and wonder cocooned him.

“Oh!” He sighed in happy surprise. “Oh.” Rhett looked away, all bashful, but he didn’t budge from atop his best friend, not with the way Link’s arms pulled him in tighter around the waist. “That’s new. I like it.”

“Want me to do it again?” Rhett asked, applecheeks lighting crimson. Link didn’t answer, just slid his arms up around Rhett’s shoulders, pulling him down for another tender kiss as a deluge of giggles overcame them.

“Oh, my god,” Link breathed, “we’re kissing.” Rhett rolled his eyes and extricated himself from Link’s arms.

“Yeah, well, don’t make it awkward,” he said fondly. He set about gathering his bags. “You ‘bout ready to head out?” He turned to gaze down at Link, lying all rumpled and blushing on the bed. He had to ignore certain momentary urges.

“Rhett,” Link said softly.

“Yeah?” Rhett watched the skinny boy climb out of bed, coming to a stop right in front of him. Link was so short and adorable. He kissed his forehead, and that set Link off in another fit of giggles.

“Merry Christmas, Rhett.” His smile was sweet and lopsided.

“Merry Christmas, Link.”

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much all credit for this story goes to the beautiful and charming "[The Gift of the Magi](https://americanenglish.state.gov/files/ae/resource_files/1-the_gift_of_the_magi_0.pdf)" by actual legend O. Henry. It's my favorite Christmas short story.


End file.
